“How old are you, Dick?”
“Sixteen last August.”
“I’m fifteen. Wouldn’t you think I was older?” she asked anxiously.
“Heaps,” he laughed. “I thought you were about twenty.”
“I don’t like to be made fun of,” replied Harry.
“There’s a good deal you don’t like, isn’t there?” he asked with a grin.
“I sha’n’t like you if you talk like that,” she answered severely.
“Then I sha’n’t come to your old school.”
“It isn’t an ‘old school!’” flashed Harry. “And I don’t care whether you come or not!”